The Right Kind of Wrong
by coffeelovingCali
Summary: [AU] Dreaming of the most perfect fairytale romance, Rachel devises a plan to get it right with her most ambitious (and expensive) scheme so far, only to have it boomeranging into all sorts of “right” kinds of wrong. CHAPTER 2 NOW UP!
1. Prologue

A/N:  Basically, to sum up, the characters you recognize on TV are not mine.  The story's based on these characters though—modified by me.  Needless to say, this is another one of those AU stories of mine.  Hope you enjoy…

**The Right Kind of Wrong**

_prologue_

=====

Rachel held the necklace against the soft light coming in from the open window and marveled at the very expensive dangling heart-shaped pendant in all its splendor.  She must have seen that necklace over a hundred times, but every time, she couldn't help but be amazed at how beautiful it looked.  "Wow…" she gasped under her breath, watching the pendant's small diamond studs display a kaleidoscope of colorful lights around the room.  "Grandmama, your necklace is so beautiful!"

Grandma Green leaned back in her antique rocking chair and smiled tenderly at her fifteen-year old granddaughter.  "Well, Karen," she began, calling her granddaughter by her middle name—she always had.  "It's yours…"  She reached out to the teen and lovingly tucked a wisp of soft brown hair behind her ear.  "I'm giving it to you."

"Really?"  Rachel muttered excitedly as her eyes turned a shade darker than the pleasant blue skies outside.

"Really.  Call it as an early sixteenth birthday present."  Grandma Green nodded, chuckling lightly as her grandchild smothered her with hugs and kisses.

"Oh, thank you, Grandmama!  Thank you!"  Rachel sighed and sat back on the low ottoman to admire her newly acquired heirloom.  "My sixteenth birthday isn't until next year, but wow…This is…this is really beautiful…"

Grandma Green smiled, watching the dance of excitement all over the teen's face.  Rachel Karen had always been her favorite.  All her grandchildren were wonderful, but her sweet Karen…she just reminded her so much of herself when she was younger.  Of all her grandchildren, her Karen was the only one who still believed in magic, in fairytales, in happily-ever-afters, in true love.  Untainted by the negative views of the world regarding such matters, that was what she loved most about her granddaughter and the one strong connection that had always drawn her to the teenager.

"Wow…"  Rachel marveled again.  "I can't believe this.  Are you really giving this to me?"

"Of course!"  Grandma Green laughed.  "I think it's time to share the magic with you," she added with a wink.

Magic, indeed.  Rachel smiled as she looked at the pendant in her palm, letting its cool, small stones tickle the skin of her hand.  The pendant—or rather, the pendants—made her grandparents' love story, and she thought nothing could get more romantic, more magical, than that.

"You know, I did meet your grandfather when I was sixteen, and a year before that was when I got that necklace…"  Grandma Green went on.  She sighed softly, recalling fond memories of her late husband, of that late summer afternoon when their paths crossed, of that crisp cold autumn night when they separated only to be reunited again on a stormy winter afternoon many years down the road.  Theirs was a story of a love found, lost, but then found again.  The necklace might not have been the main catalyst of their story, as her granddaughter believed, but the necklace, together with its pendants, had always been the reminder to her that true love lasts forever.

Already familiar with the piece of jewelry, Rachel unclasped the pendant until they separated into two hearts, each with a smooth side that had served as the inside panel from when they were locked together.  She rubbed one of the pendants with her thumb, running her fingernail over the engraved phrase saying, "True love lasts forever…" She smiled, more especially, when she read the name "Rachel" engraved in it.  The engraving wasn't intended for her, of course.  Rachel was her grandmother's middle name, the name that her grandfather had always fondly called her grandmother, and the very reason why she had always been a Karen to her grandparents.  Still, now that the necklace was in her possession, she couldn't help but smile and feel that strong sense of ownership that the engraving added to her already favorite treasure.

"Your grandfather and I never got the chance to have his name engraved on the other heart…"  Grandma Green held the other pendant, running a finger across its smooth face.  "So I'm thinking, maybe you could have _his_ name engraved on it instead."  She gave her granddaughter an all-knowing, but slightly teasing smile.

Rachel rolled her eyes, smiling.  "But Grandmama, I don't have a _him_ yet."

"You don't?" The older Green arched a wrinkled brow.  "I can't possibly believe that.  You, my child, are a very beautiful young lady that I am most certain that many gentlemen are already competing for your affections …"

"Well…there are boys, all right."  Rachel grinned somewhat bashfully.  "But I want to have what you told me you and Grandpa had. You know…the love at first sight…the magic…the feeling…"

Grandma Green threw her head back as she laughed.  "Rachel, Rachel, Rachel…"  She muttered, shaking her head.  "Child, every love story is different.  There is no one way to fall in love, per se.  Sometimes, it happens in a split second.  Sometimes, it happens gradually over long periods of time.  But never, ever the same way, I don't think…"

"I guess…"  Rachel sighed.  "But I still think that my love story would be more romantic if, you know, it happens more like yours and Grandpa," she admitted thoughtfully.  "I mean, you lost your pendant, but of all people in the ship, he's the one who found it and returned it to you…but you broke up…because your parents didn't want you to be together."  She knew the story so well that her grandmother just smiled as she listened.

"But then of course," Rachel continued.  "To further prove that you're meant to be, you sold the other half of the pendant to an antique store in Maine before you moved to New York, but guess who found it again?  Grandpa!  I mean, after so many years you'd think that he wouldn't be the one to find it, but he was…" 

"And he looked for me when he found that pendant and returned it to me, flying red balloons outside my window…I was holding a red balloon for my nephew who was with me at the time when we first met, you know…" Grandma Green added.  "Then, of course, accidentally, it slipped from my grip and your grandfather caught it from the upper deck of the ship.  And as they say, the rest is history."

Rachel released a dreamy sigh.  "Aww…so romantic…I want that to happen to me…"

"You're one special girl, Rachel Karen."  Grandma Green touched her granddaughter's cheek   "I'm sure it will happen to you too…differently, of course…but just wait.  It will come to you…maybe even when you least expect it…I know it happened to me…"

"Grandmama, do you think it's fate?"

Grandma Green shrugged.  "I honestly don't know…"

"If it's fate, I really want that to happen to me…" Rachel smiled knowingly.  "It's just more romantic, you know?"  She sighed, standing up as her eyes lit up dreamily, entering a zone where her imagination ran wild and free.  "I can already imagine it.  I'm walking and then I lost my pendant and then he'll find it and keep it safe with him for years.  Then, we'll meet on one day…accidentally, of course.  Then, all I need to do is look into his eyes and I'll know that I've finally found the one…the love of my life.  Who knows?  Maybe I'll find him when I go to George's wedding this summer…"

=====

The setting sun cast a romantic blend of reddish pink across the virtually surreal horizon, making a very strong impression on Rachel as she watched her older cousin exchanged vows with his one true love.  She thought it was the most romantic, fairytale-like wedding she had witnessed in all her fifteen years.  Set in the lush backdrop of countryside Italy, the magical garden wedding was like a whimsical paradise on top of a hill.  Combined with the most romantic music played by a truly superior acoustic ensemble, it was an enchanting place to be.

Hands clasped loosely on top of her lap, Rachel let out hopeful sigh and, without thinking, lifted her hand to the base of her throat to touch the special pendant hanging down the white gold chain.  Years from now, she wanted to have her own wedding very much like this one.  With all the money her parents have, she knew they could afford her the most lavish wedding she could dream of.  She just really needed to come up with the most romantic way to meet her prince charming.  She wanted it to be magical… special… extraordinary… with fireworks spectacular…

After another dreamy sigh, Rachel heard her younger sister, Amy, made a gagging noise.  With a roll of her eyes, she glanced sideways at her annoying sister, who was at this point pulling all sorts of faces to mock her.  "What?"  Rachel's tone was hushed since they were in the middle of a ceremony, but still it was cutting.

"You're making that 'fairytales come true in real life' face again," Amy snootily pointed out.

"So?"  Rachel arched an eyebrow.

"Rach, how many times do I have to tell you that fairytales don't come true?"

"I don't care…"  Rachel rolled her eyes and opted to ignore her sister's comment.  Amy had always been a nonbeliever in fairytales and happily-ever-after.  She, on the other hand, wanted to believe that they could come true.  She had this strong feeling that that one person who could make it happen for her was just waiting to meet her somewhere out there.  For all she cared, he could be there in her cousin's party right that moment.  She glanced around, carefully eyeing every single one of the well-dressed visitors.  Then, she spotted _him_, standing oh so tall and handsome in the back.

_Him_ was wearing a relaxed tan suit, making his golden hair appear even more golden.  When he looked at her with those crystal blue eyes, Rachel thought her heart stopped beating.  When he smiled with those pearly whites and adorable dimple in his left cheek, she thought she would melt.  He couldn't be a whole lot older than her, Rachel thought.  At most, _he_ was probably a year or two older than her, making _him_ a very suitable 'future' for Rachel to look forward to.

Rachel sighed dreamily.  It was love at first sight.  There was certainly no doubt about that.

With a confident smile stamped across her face, Rachel pulled out a compact mirror from her small handmade Italian leather purse that matched her long, deep blue Armani formal wear.  After checking to make sure that her soft brown curls were framing her face in the most flattering way, and that her makeup was still fresh to highlight her best facial features, she slid out of her seat and into the back row to 'make a new friend.'

"Hi," Rachel greeted warmly and cheerfully when she approached _him_.  Meeting cute boys had never been a problem for her.  Although she's attending an all-girls exclusive high school, her rich socialite parents have taken her to and hosted more than enough social events for her develop her skills in meeting and holding conversations with the opposite sex.  Besides, interpersonal skills had always been part of her training while growing up in Manhattan's upper class society.  So really, talking to 'golden boy' should be a fairly easy task.

"Hi," 'golden boy' replied in an equally friendly tone.  The smile he gave Rachel was so bedazzling that Rachel couldn't help but be bedazzled by him.  It must have been over a minute before she found her words again.  Even then, her usual articulate self could not utter a single comprehensible word.  She was practically drooling.

"I'm Louis Bradford with a silent s," 'golden boy' introduced when Rachel remained inarticulate another minute later.  He extended his hand to her and gave her another one of his megawatt smiles.

Rachel felt her cheeks flushed.  She has never been this tongue-tied in her whole life before.  She knew she was making a big fool out of herself, but she knew if she didn't speak he'd think even more so.  "And…and I-I'm Rachel Green with a capital R…" she managed to respond in the same clever fashion that he introduced himself, taking his outstretched hand.  She could swear that the electricity that flowed from his hand to hers was enough to kill her right there.

Louis laughed—the deep, masculine, and sexy kind that sent shivers down Rachel's spine.  "You're funny," he told her, keeping his eyes glued to her and hers alone.

Rachel thought her heart would burst.  They had only exchanged a few words, but she was already going gaga over him.  Without even realizing what she was doing, she brought a nervous hand to the base of her throat and touched white gold heart-shaped pendant hanging from the simple chain around her neck.  _Could he be the one, the one whose name would be forever engraved in the other half of the pendant?_  She knew she wanted to leave her love story to the hands of fate, but then, this _is_ fate.  Meeting him _is_ fate.  Her heart definitely seemed to think so.  She could already picture herself with him, living their happily-ever-after.

"Are you always this quiet right after you say 'hi' to someone?" Louis asked jokingly, bringing Rachel back to reality.

When Rachel snapped out of her dream world, she found herself blushing again.  She couldn't believe how much effect he has on her.  She wanted to give him the pendant right there and then because she has a strong feeling that 'golden boy' was _the one_.  She didn't want to scare him off, though, so she held onto her reins and brought her hand back down to her side.  She'd just have to figure out some other romantic way to give it to him.

"Rachel with a capital R, are you okay?" Louis touched Rachel's arm lightly when she still didn't say a word.  "Can I get you some water or something?" he asked softly with a smile.

Rachel couldn't remember what she said in response.  The next thing she knew was that Louis was holding her hand, leading her to where the drinks were stationed.  She felt like floating with her head above the clouds.  She couldn't feel much else but the warmth of his hands against hers and the rapid beating of her heart.  She had no doubts about it.  She just met the love of her life.

=====

"He's so dreamy!  He's like perfection!"  Rachel gushed dramatically as she waltzed around the manor suite she was sharing with her sisters, Amy and Jill.  She was no longer clad in her Armani formal wear, but her eyes were still gazing at a wishful distance, and her feet haven't touched the ground since she met Louis Bradford.  "And to think, he's just a floor above me right now!"  She squealed like a person going out of her mind, unable to contain her fuzzy feelings anymore.

"Rachel Karen Green, could you please cut it out?" Amy demanded, sitting up from her reclined position in the middle of the posh king-sized bed.

"What's your problem, Amy?" Jill joined her older sisters, hopping onto the bed.  "Rachel's in love…"

"Sure…whatever," Amy arrogantly mocked.  "But look how she's behaving?  She's worse than you when you had that crush on that Chris guy!  And see, she's fifteen…a year older than me and three years older than you.  For goodness sakes!  She's going to fly if you don't hold her feet down to the ground."  She shook her head as she rolled her eyes, disgusted by her older sister's childish 'head in the stars' attitude.

Jill shrugged her shoulders and smiled as she reclined down the large bed.  "You know what I think, Amy?  I think you're just jealous because Rachel found a boy and you didn't."

Rachel giggled when she saw Amy roll her eyes at their youngest sister's comment.  "Thanks, Jill.  I know you'd always come through for me."

"Fine!" Amy pulled a haughty face.  "Gang up on me.  I'm just saying that this thing is just a crush.  It will be over before you even go on a first date."

Rachel rolled her eyes.  "You're too cynical, Amy.  Why can't you have just a little bit of romantic bone in you?"

Just then, Ling, the girls' long-time Asian nanny—well, personal assistant, as they refer to her now that they were all past the age that still needed nanny's care—came into the room, carrying five red helium balloons by the strings.  "Here you go, Miss Rachel," she said in her nearly perfect English as she handed Rachel strings.

"Thanks, Ling-Ling…"Rachel smiled gratefully at the Green sisters' ever so faithful helper as she took the balloons she had asked her to pick up for her before she and her sisters went back to the suite.  Ling had been taking care of her and her sisters as if they were her own for as long as she could remember.  She knew she and her sisters were all past the stage that they still need a 'nanny' to attend to their needs, but their domineering mother insisted that Ling kept her employment at the Green household.  They didn't mind this, of course; they had always considered Ling family rather than employee anyway.

"What are you going to do with those balloons?" Amy mockingly asked.  "Make a wish and send them to the stars?"  
"In a way, yes," Rachel replied confidently with a smile.  "Four are for props and the fifth one is the one that will get caught in the tree branch next to Louis' window, so when he wakes up tomorrow morning, he'd see it and get it…and that's how he'd get my other pendant."  She had planned it all.  She had surveyed the area, analyzed the pros and cons, and most importantly, created the perfect setup for 'golden boy' to get the special pendant.

"Oh no!" Amy dramatically gushed.  "Not the pendant!  Rachel are you out of your mind?  That's like…expensive!"

"Too late," Rachel sarcastically replied, pulling a pendant attached to a red ribbon from her purse on the overstuffed armchair.  With a determined smile on her lips, she tied the ribbon to a red balloon.  "There," she said satisfactorily.  "The pendant that would be in the care of the man I'd love forever.  It will be all worth it in the end…you'll see…"

Amy stuck out her tongue, making a gagging face.  "Oh I think I'm going to puke!  Oh and if you want a story like grandma's, that's not the way to do it.  She didn't to it purposefully."

"Oh c'mon, Amy…don't be such a baby!  It might be fun!"   Jill hopped out of the bed and followed Rachel out into the balcony to watch her sister's silliness.  "If it comes true for Rachel, who knows, I might do the same?" she called over her cynical sister.

Outside, Rachel glanced up at Louis' dark bedroom window.  Part of her wished that he would peek outside so she could see him again before she went to bed; but another part of her hoped that he wouldn't, lest he'd see her silliness and be turned off by her 'crafty little acts of love.'  With a sigh, she let go of the balloons, one by one, intentionally positioning one particular balloon so that it would get caught among the tree branches. _"It's still fate, right?"_ she smirked as she watched them fly.  Just before she headed back inside, she glanced up at the red balloon, caught in the branches of the tree as planned, a few feet away from Louis' window.  "Take care of my heart…" she whispered dreamily with a smile.  One day, her fairytale would finally come true…

=====

The dew was still fresh on the grass, yet this very morning he had to work.  He wished he had gotten the afternoon shift instead.  He hated having had to clean the after-party mess from the wedding the day before.  But, what could he do?  He wanted a summer job and he sure got one…just not the kind that he wanted.

Grabbing the rake, he walked across the lawn towards the tall tree where the most fallen leaves gathered.  He sighed and dully began working.  He wished he were doing something else.  Or, if he's really going to wish for things, he wished he were sleeping in one of the lavish rooms of the manor just like its wealthy guests inside.  

Someday soon, he vowed, he's going to get rich.  He's going to live his dream and he's going to get rich.  Or…he could just win the lottery…

Smiling at the thought, he looked down and continued to rake the leaves.  Then, he saw it.  Attached to a popped chunk of red balloon, he saw it.  Curiously, he stooped down and picked up the shiny metal.  To his surprise, it was studded with diamonds.  He flipped it over, and on the backside, there was a name engraved inside the quote saying, "True love lasts forever…"  He read the name and smiled.  "So you believe that, Rachel, huh?"

He looked up at the manor.  There were four windows going up, so the pendant could only belong to one of its occupants, he thought.  He wondered if someone was looking for the pendant right that minute.  On the other hand, something about it being tied to a balloon told him that someone lost her pendant intentionally.

He stared down at the piece of jewelry for what seemed like a long time, but when he heard his supervisor calling him at a distance, thoughtlessly, he just slid the pendant into his pocket and ran.  He'd just give it back to Rachel later.

=====


	2. Right kind 1

**The Right Kind of Wrong**

The first chapter of wrongs

=====__

Without even bothering to knock, Ross let himself in his sister's apartment.  As always, he covered his ears upon hearing what he considered to be shrill noise coming from the decorative door chimes that his sister would hung on the doorknob.  He hated the tinkling noise that it made whenever the door would close.  Today, especially, that was the last thing he needed.  His day was bad enough as it was.  "Monica, can you please get rid of that?" he called over grumpily to his younger sister who was busy cooking her dinner in the kitchen.

"If you promise to knock next time," Monica nonchalantly responded without even looking up from the minestrone soup she's stirring in the stove.  "The only reason I put that there is because you and the boys keep coming to my apartment without even bothering to knock.  What if I have a boyfriend here?"

"Mon, two words: lock up.  If the door's locked, do you think we'll still barge into your apartment?"  Ross rolled his eyes, pulling out what he didn't know was a chair with unstable legs.  In a split second, he fell down to the floor—much to his chagrin and his sister's split-second amusement.  "What the hell is wrong with my day today?" he complained in a high-pitched voice as he stood up, rubbing his behind.

Monica turned off the stove and faced her brother who was releasing his frustrated energies on the broken chair.  "Just today?" she joked, "You have _always_ been clumsy."  When she realized that her brother was in no mood to accept jokes or 'subtle' truths, considering the dagger glances he threw her way, she sighed and pulled a chair next to him.  Ross was probably having a very bad day, she thought.  "Sit and tell me what's wrong _this time_?"

Now a little more cautious, Ross tested the chair he pulled before actually sitting on it.  Once he situated himself securely and comfortably, he let out a very long deep sigh—similar to the sighs he's been releasing all day.  "Ivana broke up with me."  He said it right out flatly.

"Your girlfriend, single-mom Ivana?"  Monica dumbly asked.

Ross rolled his eyes.  "No.  Ivana dance with you," he mocked.  "Yes.  My girlfriend of two years, Ivana!  Who else?"

"I don't know…"  Monica shrugged her shoulders.  "A pet dog from Croatia?" she joked.  Since she came to the city, she just never knew how else to tackle a lament over a failed relationship other than to joke about it.  She and her friends have had so many failed relationships collectively in the past that usually they would just end up making a big laugh about it.  People have always said that laughter is the best medicine.  In her case, she found it to be true.  Unfortunately, it was not working on her brother this time.  After all, Ross did love Ivana and her daughter, Audrey.

Monica flashed her brother a small smile and sympathetically rubbed his arm.  "Sorry…So, how did it happen?"

"I don't know…"  Ross dejectedly replied.  "I mean, I really thought that we were in _that_ _place_ you know?  We were great together.  Her kid and I got along so well…"  He paused and looked at a distance, hurt taking over his face.  "But I guess in the end, it all came down to she just needed someone and I happened to be there at her convenience..."

"Don't say that…I'm sure she loved you…" Monica offered.

"Oh yeah?"  Ross was skeptical.  "She left me for another man.  And guess who for?  Her ex-boyfriend who abandoned her and Audrey some years back!  It turned out, she still loves him."

"Well, at least she left you for another man," Monica joked, "unlike your ex-girlfriend Carol who left you for a woman."

"Well, thanks for reminding me!"  Ross sarcastically retorted.  He didn't know why he was always unlucky in love.  It was almost as if he was cursed the day he was born to remain single for the rest of his life.  It wasn't even because he was not trying hard enough to make his relationships work; he was.  He just never had any luck in love.  Not in all his twenty-seven years.

Ross sighed, reflectively and sadly.  "Is it just me or am I just really unlucky in love?"

Monica rolled her eyes.  "Please!  What?  Do you think Chandler, Joey, Phoebe, myself, and the rest of the single people of New York City aren't?"

Ross scratched his head.  "See, it's different with you guys.  I want to meet 'the one' so I can get married and start my family.  See, I want those things—the kids, the family life…"

"And you think we don't?" Monica argued.  "Believe me, if I can just meet Mr. Right right now, I'd marry him tomorrow."

"You mean _him_ as in a foreigner," Ross dryly reminded his sister.

"Why not?" Monica defended.  "Everyone's entitled to dream about his or her ideal romance…It just so happens that mine involves a tall, handsome foreigner…"

"Yeah…boycott the local New Yorkers and you'd end up an old maid…"  Ross shook his head, smiling somewhat.

Monica rolled her eyes.  "Hey, if I end up marrying a foreigner, I won't invite you to my wedding!"  She threatened smilingly.  "Hopefully, I'll meet him before I turn thirty…and that's like in four years…"

Ross shrugged.  "Well…" he began wryly.  "You're probably going to get married before I do…"

Monica giggled, resting her chin on her big brother's shoulder.  "We're pathetic, aren't we?" she joked, sighing.

"I guess so…" Ross smiled weakly, somehow finding that statement to be true…at least in his case.

"Looking for love in all the wrong places…waiting for love that might never happen…"  Monica grimaced, releasing her unspoken frustrations in a sigh.  "It's all for a lost cause…" she finished wryly with the realization.  "Do you think true love really exists?"

=====

"IT DOES NOT!"

Rachel didn't even care that the pitch and volume of her voice was beyond the acceptable standards of her prim and proper upbringing.  She was mad.  No, she was more than mad.  She was upset.  She was infuriated.  She was…

"Look, Louis, I _am_ tired of this!  No more!  I can't take this anymore, you cheating liar!"  She drew in a deep breath to hold back the lump rising up her throat.  Much too drained to say anything else, she leaned back against the back walnut wall of the private elevator and released yet another sigh.  "Look, I have to go.  I've reached my floor…"

She hasn't.  She just really couldn't talk to her husband of four years yet.  The nerve of the man to call her after she caught him in bed with another woman!

Before the image of Louis with his redhead girlfriend flashed through her mind again, she hung up and slid her cellphone in her purse; and as she pulled her hand out of it, she seized a cigarette stick along with her lighter and shakily lit it in her mouth.  She took a long drag of her comfort stick, and as she exhaled, released her tears of frustration with the white smoke.  She still couldn't believe that this was happening to her, that she would be returning to her parents after she left Louis…that Louis cheated on her.

Louis!  The boy she went to extreme measures for to win his affections the summer of her fifteenth year.  The guy she dated for seven years.  The man she vowed to spend the rest of her life with!  

This was not exactly how she wanted her fairytale to end…

She and Louis were doing so well until that redhead happened!  _Argh!_  She hated that b*tch!  That woman stole _her_ Louis!  That woman ruined them!

She was mad all right, but she thought she had every right to be.  She was the injured party.  Of course, she would be upset.

"What?" she snapped when her three-year-old Andrew looked at her with eyes that seemed to condemn the white thing stuck between her fingers.  "I'm quitting soon, okay?  I really just need this right now!"  She hated it when Andrew would look at her with those eyes.  Not only did they look a lot like Louis' eyes, they also carried about them that stare that just made her cringe with guilt.  She knew she hasn't been much of a mother to the boy for a month now since she found out about Louis' affair, but she thought it was unfair that the boy would look at her as if accusing her.

As if he were able to read through his mother's internal feelings toward him, Little Andrew's eyes immediately watered with hurt and his bottom lip quivered.  Disappointment was evident in his face, and softly he began to cry.

Rachel groaned and dropped down to the floor next to her son's stroller.  She had no right to take her frustrations out on the boy.  Andrew didn't deserve that.  It wasn't his fault that he reminded her so much of his father, and it was definitely not his fault that his father cheated on her.

Apologetically, Rachel kissed her son.  "I'm sorry…Mommy's so sorry, Andrew…Mommy just doesn't know what to do anymore…"

Two more floors and then they were out.  Grabbing hold of Andrew's stroller after quickly wiping the tears off her eyes, Rachel pushed it out into the familiar dark vestibule, stopping by the trash bin in the corner to flick off the cigarette butt, and turned to the gigantic double-door entrance to the right.  The doors opened and in came to view her parents' luxurious and immaculate apartment—abode to her for twenty-two years before she married Louis four years ago.

Not a lot had changed, Rachel noted when she stepped inside the dimly-lit front hall.  The marble flooring was still spotless and unscratched despite the numerous parties hosted there.  The walls were still paneled with striped soft gray and beige wallpaper that bore no marks of dusts or tears after years of keeping it in its good-as-new condition.  The furniture, the expensive paintings, the crystal figurines and vases, and all the other decorations were still all in place, untouched and intact as if there had been a written banner over them that read, "Do not touch lest you stain it or break it."  Needless to say, the place was not very kid-friendly.

"Andrew, you are going to have so much fun here…" Rachel wryly mumbled as she continued to tour the house with her eyes, remembering all those years she spent there keeping to her room lest her mess disrupt the orderliness of this house.

"You have no luggage, Miss?"  The butler stated as if stating an observation rather than asking a question.

Rachel smiled and gestured to the door.  "The busboy's bringing them up."

"Let me show you to your room then," the butler offered, gracefully waving to the large hallway to the left as if he were a dancer.

"All right…"  Rachel scoffed under her breath, fighting the urge to tell the middle-aged butler that she needn't be escorted to her room because was already familiar with every nook and cranny of the apartment.  She lived there for years.  Of course, she would know every room and passageway there.  On the other hand, she was also very familiar with her mother's strict rules.  Knowing her mother, everything in the apartment still runs as if it were a hotel rather than a home.  The same goes for all its staff.

She had nothing against her mother.  It was just that sometimes her mother's rules and seeming desire for everything formal could get a little too much for her.  She couldn't blame her, though.  All her mother's talents and energies were spent running that household since she never joined the workforce after she got married.  It would have been her case too, Rachel thought, if she stayed married to Louis.  In fact, now that she really thought about it, she realized that she had already been following her mother's footsteps.  Technically, she was doing the exact same thing in the house she shared with Louis.

"Madame Green would like to be here to welcome you personally, but unfortunately, a charity event calls…" The balding butler continued.

As quick as the sound traveled to her ears, Rachel interrupted the annoying house help.  "Oh, it's really okay.  I think I can handle everything by myself."  She grimaced when she heard herself.  Right…she could handle everything.  _Then what the hell are you doing going back to your parents' house?!?_

Less than a minute later, the butler went on again as programmed when they reached the end of the humungous hallway where Rachel's old room was.  "Miss Rachel, should you need anything else…"

Gritting her teeth in uncontained annoyance, Rachel pushed the stroller into her old bedroom.  Without waiting for the butler to finish or thanking him, she shut the door closed and locked it.  She didn't feel like saying anything else.  She's had enough.  Besides, it wasn't like he was waiting for her to tip him.  She was almost sure that the man gets paid more than enough by her father.  Her father was generous that way.

"Mama, down please…"  Andrew held out his hand, finally breaking his silence from when they entered the apartment.

Rachel bent down to unbuckle her child, and almost immediately, Andrew jumped out of his stroller and went careening across the room, knocking over a delicate porcelain carousel horse figurine on the low table that immediately shattered into pieces when it hit the wood.

"Ooops…" Andrew brought a hand to his mouth, looking at his mother guiltily.

Rachel smiled tenderly, feeling her lids welling up with tears again.  "Don't worry.  I won't tell grandma…"  She held her hand to her son, and willingly the boy ran back to her and took it.  They sat down in the middle of the plush rug in silence, and for a while, just familiarized themselves in what would be home for them for who knows how long.

"Until your father learns his lesson, we're not going back to him," Rachel told her son who had a look of bewilderment on his face.  She sighed and leaned back against the foot of the large canopy bed.  "But you know, he'll miss us and he's going to want us back.  He called, didn't he?"

She felt silly talking to the boy about things he could only partly understand.  The only things, she realized, that could absorb everything she said were the wallpapered walls of her old bedroom.  Even them, she thought, didn't really get everything she just said.  The wallpaper was so thick that she doubted if anything could actually seep through them.

She groaned and threw her head back.  She hated this day.  Everything about it was just so _wrong_!  Her frustration was mounting, and minute by minute, they pile up one on top of the other that she could hardly identify which frustration it was that's upsetting her most.  Maybe it was the idea of moving back in with her parents.  Maybe it was the whole Louis-cheating-on-her thing.  Or maybe it was just the fact that the fairytale she surrounded her life with was finally shattered.

After all, this was not exactly how she wanted her fairytale to end…

Louis was Mr. Right.  Louis was the right of all rights.  Their similarities far outweighed their differences that anyone who would look at them would think that they are a match made in heaven.

And they were.  Rachel really, truly, believed that they were.  She just really needed _that_ pendant to get to Louis' hands to seal off that belief.

"Agh!  Stupid, stupid pendant!"  She cursed under her breath as she stood up.

"Whaddya say, Mama?" Andrew asked with wide-open eyes.

"Nothing."  Rachel shook her head.  Sometimes, she just wonders if Andrew ever thought of her as crazy.  He must have heard her at least hundreds of times doing a monologue like this.

_But that pendant._  She wondered what happened to it or who got it.  Could it still be in Italy, or has it already reached the shores of the United States?

_"Cut it out Rachel!"_  She scolded herself mentally.  _"You were fifteen!  C'mon, do you really think that those fairytale-type things happen in real life?  You had yours with Louis!  But somehow, that little fairytale world had to be penetrated by the evil of real life!  Rachel, three things: CUT IT OUT!"_

"Mama, I'm hungwy," Andrew complained, pulling Rachel out of her trance when he tugged at her pantleg.

Bewildered, Rachel blinked her eyes several times as she tried to focus back to reality.  She shook her head, shaking off the remnants of her trance.  "You-you are?"

Andrew nodded happily.  "Yeah.  I want a boo-bewy muffin!"

Rachel smiled weakly as she grabbed her son's hand.  "Okay, Louis Andrew.  Let's get you a boo-bewy muffin…"

=====

"But I have _the_ expensive pendant!" Joey yelled, causing almost everyone inside the Central Perk coffeehouse to look at him.

"Sheesh!  You say one thing, and the next he's screaming into your ear to permanently deafen you."  Chandler rolled his eyes, shaking off his ear that captured all intensity of his roommate's yelling.  "Joey, don't worry!  I can handle the bills for another month, okay?"

"Oy!"  Joey leaned back against the orange couch and vented out a sigh of defeat.  "Man, it just bothers me that I haven't been paying you my share of rent, food, and utilities.  I mean, I should be living _the_ dream life right now.  But NO!  I'm here in the city playing the part of a little wooden boy in some sleazy theater!"

Chandler patted his friend's shoulder.  "Joe, don't worry about it.  You'd get to live your _dream_ life someday soon.  Although, I kind of agree with the whole sleazy theater thing…Dude, quit that job and find something else!"

Joey smiled, shaking his head.  "All right.  I will."  He paused and looked at the pendant in his palm before shoving it in front of Chandler.  "But are you sure you don't want to take this?  I think it's worth a lot…and-and it will make me feel a lot better knowing that I paid you something.  Who knows?  This Rachel girl could be the girl for you…" he finished with a wink.

Chandler stared at the pendant for a second and then grimaced.  "Mmm…tempting.  But what if this Rachel girl is really, really ugly?  I mean, c'mon, let's face it.  You don't leave these kinds of things to fate when you can get any guy you want…"

"True…" Joey shrugged.  "But then, who knows this might be your only chance to get a girl?"

"Thanks for the encouragement, by the way," Chandler sardonically rebutted.  "Just because I haven't been out on a single date for two months…"

"Three," Joey corrected.

"Three."  Chandler rolled his eyes.  "Just because I haven't been out on a single date for _three_ months doesn't mean I'd never find a girl…I mean, if you think about it, my situation is much better than whatever Ross is in now…dated a girl for two years, got dumped…but me, I don't get dumped.  I get turned down on dates, but _never_ dumped."

Joey couldn't seem to care less.  "Nah…you gotta have a girl."

"Yeah, for someone who never had a problem with women, I believe ya…"  Chandler muttered, silently wondering what it was that Joey has that draws the ladies to him.  Penniless he might be, but Joey had always been the women magnet of the group.

"So, you sure you don't want this pendant?  You can always sell this if this Rachel girl turned out to be ugly…"  Joey held out the pendant to Chandler's nose again.

"Joey, no."  Chandler insisted.  "It's yours.  You found it.  Obviously, you like it after keeping it all these years.  So, no.  You keep it…I can cover rent for another month."

"Hi…"

Both men turned around and found Ross standing behind the couch with the most pathetic and glum expression on his face.  "Did someone die?" Chandler joked.

"No…"  Ross took the seat in between Joey and Chandler.  "Ivana broke up with me."

"Yeah, we know…" Joey agreed.  "But you know what would cheer you up?"

"What?"

"This pendant," Joey replied.  Without so much as another word, he slid the pendant into the pocket of Ross's shirt.  "And you know, it's studded with diamonds, but I can give it to you for only $3,000.  Eh, what do you say?"  He nodded convincingly like a businessman trying to make a sale.

"Wha—" came Ross's unintelligible protest.  Perplexed, he pulled out the pendant from his shirt pocket and shoved it back into Joey's palm.  "Joey, no!  I _don't_ want a fake diamond-studded pendant, and I _don't_ have $3,000!"

"Fake?"  Joey's voice boomed, his face glowering like a child trying to make a point when no one's listening.  "What do you mean FAKE?  This pendant could change your life!"

Ross rolled his eyes.  "Okay.  Give me."  He took the pendant from Joey's hand and stared at it for a second, reading the engraving on the smooth side of it.  "Rachel.  True love lasts forever…"  A look of sarcasm crossed his face.  "Is this something that one of your girlfriends left in your apartment?"

"No."  Joey shook his head.

Unconvinced by Joey's reply, Ross rolled his eyes and put the pendant back to Joey's palm.  "Give it back to your girlfriend.  I'm sure she's looking for it."

Joey pulled a face behind Ross.  "Fine!  Be murky!" he muttered under his breath, slipping the pendant back into his pants' pocket.  "But if this baby turned out to be one hot momma, don't you boys go weeping at my feet."

Both Ross and Chandler only looked at Joey with bored look on their faces.

"So…" Chandler dropped to change to the topic he thought they've discussed long enough.  "What's up with you"  He nudged Ross's arm, secretly crossing his fingers that Ross wouldn't talk about his breakup story again.  It wasn't that he didn't care.  It was just that he heard the story gazillion times since it happened last night.

"Ivana broke up with me…"  Ross's expression was back to somber.  "Apparently, she still loves Jordan…"

"Who's Jordan?" Joey asked with crinkled forehead.

"Her ex."  Ross stated dully.  "Audrey's father?"

"Who's Audrey?" Joey asked again, his expression more puzzled than ever.  "Your girlfriend?"

"Ivana's daughter?"  Ross reminded.  "Four-year-old girl.  Very cute.  Calls you Uncle Jomango?"

"Why will you date a four-year-old?"  Joey went on, still clueless despite the fact that he already heard about Ross' breakup story for at least ten times that day.

Ross only glared in response, which then forced his clueless friend to dig deeper into the crevices of his memory.

It took Joey a while to process his thoughts, but when he did, his eyes widened, wordlessly communicating to his friends that he finally remembered.  "Oh!  That Ivana!  That really hot girl you met at the mall two years ago!"

"Yeah…" Ross nodded wryly.  "That Ivana."  Sighing, he continued.  "Anyway…this Jordan guy came back and—"

"I don't mean to be rude, but…" Chandler interrupted, glancing at his wristwatch.  "If we don't want to be late for the movies, we should get going now…"

Ross's mouth dropped open in protest, but before he could say anything else, Chandler continued.  "I know, I know.  You're going to say 'That is so rude, Chandler'"  He paused to roll his eyes.  "But dude, this is all you ever talk about all day!  Get over yourself!  Be a man!  Date around.  Try the other fishes in the sea…"

Joey shrugged, patting Ross in the back.  "Chandler's right, man.  Stop lamenting over this one failed one."

"Just don't, you know, date another single mom," Chandler suggested, wincing a little.  "Apparently, those are the other fishes with hooks already attached to the corner of their mouths…"

"Dude!"  Joey slapped Chandler in the arm.  "Why do you keep talking fish talk?"

"I went fishing last week with my boss," Chandler explained, and while he told Joey his story, Ross tuned out for just a second and simply took a moment to release his pain.  His friends weren't being insensitive.  They were really just tired to have to listen to his pity story all day.  He felt bad for them, really.  He really just needed to get this thing off his chest…again.

Sighing, Ross stood up.  "Look, you guys.  I'm just going to get some coffee then we can leave."

"Then maybe afterwards, we could visit a strip joint…"  Joey suggested excitedly.  "Now _that_ should cheer you up."

Ross rolled his eyes, smiling a little.  The boys might not be the best listener in the world, but they were good solution-givers, we-know-what-could-cheer-you-up type of guys.

He went to the counter and ordered his regular to-go, and just as he was getting back to where his friends were, a blue plastic ball stopped right at his feet.  Unthinkingly, he bent down to pick it up and searched for its owner.  And unless a bunch of twenty to thirty-something year old people still plays with plastic toys, he figured the ball could only belong to the cute little boy sitting in his stroller with his arm extended in his direction.

Smiling, Ross walked across the coffeehouse to the blonde boy.  "Hi there, little mister," he greeted warmly.  "Did you lose your ball?"

The boy grinned adorably as he playfully snatched the ball from him.  "Yes!"

"You're cute." Ross chuckled, patting the boy's round tummy before straightening up.  A fifty-something year old Asian woman smiled at him at the end of the stroller, so he smiled back.  "Is he your son?"  he inquired politely.

"Oh no…" the older woman replied.  "He's the child of the little girl that I used to baby-sit."

Ross smiled.  "I bet she's not so little now…"  Before he could even say anything else, Chandler came up behind him and grabbed his arm.

"Okay, Ross.  It's time to go."  Chandler smiled at the older woman Ross had been talking to.  "It's nice to meet you.  You have such a cute little boy."

"Wha—"  Ross opened his mouth to protest but before he could even finish his sentence, Chandler dragged him out of the coffeehouse and into the muggy summer weather outside.  "What was that all about?" he asked as the door was closing behind him.

"You're welcome." Chandler smiled all-knowingly.  "Just looking out for you man.  You know, just in case you fall for another woman 'with strings attached.'  You don't want your heart badly broken again, do you?"

Ross rolled his eyes, shaking his head.  He knew his friend meant well, but he didn't think he needed to be protected from such women.  He could take care of himself.  "Where's Joey?" he asked a split-second later.

"Oh, just probably looking for his precious pendant on the couch.  It slipped out of his pocket so now he's looking for it…"

"I see…" Ross took a sip of his coffee.  He turned to look back inside the coffeehouse, but accidentally, he blocked the way of the unnoticing woman headed in the same direction, causing her to drop the cigarette she was fumbling from her purse.  "Ooops, sorry..." he apologized sheepishly, picking up the unlit cigarette that fell on the pavement.  Before he could hand it back to her, she stormed off into the wooden doors of the coffeehouse.  Ross didn't really see the woman's eyes—since she was wearing a large pair of dark sunglasses—but he could have sworn that she was glaring at him before she stormed away.

"Who's that?" Chandler asked as he stepped alongside Ross.

"I don't know…" Ross shrugged, staring at the cigarette stick in his hand.  "Some spoiled, cigarette-smoking rich girl, I guess…"

=====

Rachel marched into the coffeehouse, carrying with her the air of indignation.  Of all days to bump into a clumsy person, why did it have to be on the same day that her life was at its lowest point?  She _hated_ clumsy people!  Clumsy people is one of her many annoyances!

She stopped on the elevated doorway when she entered the coffeehouse.  Ling, her nanny as a kid, sure wasn't kidding when she said that Central Perk was a very busy place.  It was.  Teeming up with all kinds of people from different backgrounds, Rachel deemed it as one of the happening places in the Village.  It was just not her kind of place, though.  So she really doubted if she'd ever return.  Not only was it jam-packed with people, the place was lacking the cute sophistication that she was usually looking for in coffee shops like this.

Hardly paying attention to the lower floor level than the elevated square she was in, she nearly tripped when she took another step inside the establishment.  Thankfully, gentlemanly customer on his way out came to her rescue and propped her back up to her feet.  "Thanks."  Rachel smiled tightly, smoothing out the classy pantsuit she was wearing.

"You're welcome…" the stranger replied, an overfriendly smile plastered across his face that Rachel thought looked partly Italian.  He seemed nice, but when he looked her up from head to toe and said what Rachel thought was the most horrible pick-up line, "How you doin?"  Rachel just rolled her eyes and left him.  For an attractive guy, he sucked!  But then, of course, it could just be that she was bitter about all men that she passed such a hasty judgment on the man just like that.

"Right here."  Ling waved her over to the counter, where Andrew was struggling to get out of his stroller.

"I want to play with him!"  Andrew kept yelling, pointing to the direction of the door.

"What?"  Rachel looked at Ling in confusion then back at the door.

Ling shook her head, telling her to ignore it.  "It's nothing.  Just some guy who picked up his ball."

"Oh…"  Rachel trailed, her expression turning glum.  Louis used to play ball with Andrew a lot.  Obviously, her son was missing his father.  Sadly, she sighed.  One day she'd get him back for the two of them.

To be continued… 


	3. Wrong kind 2

A/N: A couple of you (I think) are wondering if this is a J/R or R/R fic.  Well, this chapter should eliminate one of the pairings.  This is somewhat a complicated twist (at least for me...since I'm laying out the bigger picture first before working on the details).  Needless to say, it might take a while before I unwrap the "real" package.  But if you stay patient, hopefully, you wouldn't be disappointed in the end...except if you're a J/R shipper (Ooops!  Did I just say that out loud?  Hehe)  Anyway, enough with my rambling.  Hope you enjoy this chapter.

**The Right Kind of Wrong**

_The second chapter of wrongs_

=====

With six photos of six different women gathered around the coffeetable and an empty beer bottle in the middle, it was, by far, the most boring game of Spin-the-Bottle Chandler ever had to play.  Six women and only one of him.  It would have been an excellent, win-win situation if he weren't the only one with the awareness that the game was actually happening.

The sudden slamming of the door made Chandler jump up from his seat.  Like a criminal caught red-handed, he held his hands up in the air.  "I'm not doing anything!  I'm not doing anything!"

It was Joey.  Thankfully, it was just his roommate, Joey, and Chandler was finally able to vent out a sigh of relief.

"Hey man," Joey greeted, walking over to the living room.  When he noticed the pictures splayed across the table, he looked at Chandler and arched up one quizzical brow.  "What are you doing?"

Chandler chuckled sheepishly.  "Well...I was playing a little game..."

"Spin the Bottle?"  Joey picked up the empty beer bottle and peered over at the pictures.  "With pictures of Monica, Phoebe, and your ex-girlfriends?"  He swept his hands up in the air, making a point.  "Dude, that's weird!"

Chandler rolled his eyes.  "No, it's not..." he defended.  "And it's not just pictures of my ex-girlfriends, okay?  There's a magazine cutout of former Baywatch babe, Yasmine Bleeth..."

"Sure."  Sarcasm escorted Joey's words.  "That makes it less weird..."  He shook his head.  "Dude!  What are you doing?"

"Fine!"  Chandler sighed in defeat, taking a seat in the middle of the yellow couch.  "Well, it's Valentines Day in two days and I have yet to find a date..."

Joey's brows shot up in curiosity.  "So you're playing Spin the Bottle so that whoever the bottle points to would be the girl you'd ask to go out with you?" he attempted to make a guess.  To his surprise, he guessed right.  Chandler didn't really blurt it right out to him.  His guilty expression just, sort of, gave him away.  "Dude, that's weird!"

"What's weird?" spoke a familiar woman's voice.

Joey and Chandler turned their heads and saw their friend, Phoebe, coming in.  Perky as always, Phoebe had on a warm smile and a rather colorful clown outfit.  In a way, the boys weren't surprised.  Phoebe, after all, had always been...well, special.

"I'm sorry."  Chandler spoke, his smile hinting that he was about throw a joke.  "The birthday party isn't here.  It's over at Apartment 20, I believe..."

Familiar with Chandler's ways, Phoebe just rolled her eyes.

"What's up with the costume, Pheebs?"  Chandler went on as he and Joey headed to the kitchen, where Phoebe was positioned to take the cordless phone.

"They fired me at the massage place.  So now I have to take this part-time clown thing at this party place so I can make rent this month," Phoebe griped, pressing some numbers on the phone.  "Can I use your phone, by the way?"

Joey smiled weakly.  "I think you already are..."

Phoebe grinned half-apologetically.  "Sorry.  I really just have to make this phone call to an old client of mine.  I promised Ross I'd set him up on a date with her and I want to do it before I leave town..."

"You're leaving town in that costume?" Chandler asked.

"No."  Phoebe rolled her eyes.  "This was from a party this afternoon.  My out of town trip is a totally different thing.  But I really just need to make this call now because I don't have a phone at home..."

For lack of any intelligible comment, Chandler made another one of his sarcastic fillers.  "Because you sold it?"

"Ssh!"  Phoebe shook a finger at him, gesturing that the other line finally picked up.  "Oh, hi Amanda..."

While Phoebe took her call out in the hallway, Joey grinned at Chandler teasingly.  "So, care to tell me what was happening back there?"  He tilted his head to the direction of the living room, where the traces of Chandler's Spin-the-Bottle session were still evident.

"Okay," Chandler gave up and just opted to explain.  "For Valentines Day.  I thought I'd call up an old friend and maybe ask her out to dinner or something..."

"Really?"  Joey grimaced.  "You're thinking of going out on a date with an ex-girlfriend again?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Dude, there's a reason why they're called ex's," Joey pointed out.

Chandler shrugged.  "Well...Phoebe and Monica aren't my exes.  Neither is Yasmine Bleeth.  I just added those to make it seem like I have more choices..."

Unable to comprehend his roommate's logic, Joey just shook his head.  "I don't know what's the matter with you, but you have got to get out there and look for new blood.  Man, you gotta have to stop recycling your girlfriends."  He sighed, stuffing his hands inside his coat pockets when suddenly an idea struck him.  "You know what?  I'd set you up on a date for Valentines Day.  Look at it as a way of me paying you back for what I owe you...A date and..."  He trailed and retrieved something from the front pocket of the backpack slung over his shoulder.  "This."  He handed Chandler the infamous pendant once more.

Chandler rolled his eyes, but not making any more attempt to give the piece of jewelry back to his roommate.  Joey has been doing this for six months, and after a while, it was just tiring to even put up an argument that he wouldn't take the pendant because he could still handle the finances by himself.

"I don't want you to say anything," Joey spoke in all seriousness.  "If you can't accept it, that's fine.  But, just hold on to it until I can actually pay you back."

"But Joe..."

"Nah-uh!"  Joey shook a finger to Chandler's face.  "You don't want to accept it as a payment, but at least hold on to it and let me keep my pride.  I haven't paid you a penny for over six months!  It would make me feel better knowing that you have something sort of guarantee from me..."

Slowly, Chandler broke into a smile and shook his head.  The look of determination on Joey's face told him that it was pointless to argue, so he didn't.  "All right.  I'll hold on to this until you can pay me back...but if this Rachel girl turned out to be hot, don't you go weeping at my feet," he added as a joke, copying Joey's line from months back.

"Then, you keep her too."  Joey laughed, patting Chandler in the arm.  He honestly couldn't care less.  To him, the pendant was just a pendant--a remembrance from that one summer in Italy a long time ago.

Chandler studied the diamond-studded pendant with much curiosity, mostly just so he could kill time.  It wasn't like he has anything better to do.  "So, does this pendant have like some sort of story behind it?  It doesn't belong to a dead old lady, does it?"

=====

"Thanks Mon for coming to my rescue.  You deserve an Oscar for your acting skills as the enraged wife."  Chandler smiled, throwing a sideways glance at Monica as she walked alongside him.  "That date was just terrible!  For a minute, I thought I would have been much better off dateless tonight than being on one with that woman!"

Monica laughed.  "You are so mean."  She shook her head.  "Seriously, Chandler, you are so picky when it comes to the women you date.  No one's good enough.  No one's sexy enough."

Chandler rolled his eyes.  "Look who's talking, Miss-I'll-only-date-a-foreigner.  At least I still go out on other dates, but you.  You're so picky."

"Hey," Monica defended.  "I just want to get it right this time."

"Well, so do I," Chandler retorted.  "What do you have against _the locals_ anyway?  Are they less attractive, smellier, or something?"

"No..."  Monica thought for a second.  "I just think it's more romantic.that's all.  I mean, picture this."

Chandler held a hand in front of Monica before she could say anything else.  "Seriously, should I?  You're not going to make me imagine that I'm girl, are you?"

"No!"  Monica matter-of-factly replied, rolling her eyes.  Unthinkingly, she looped her arm around Chandler's arm and made him focus to what she was about to say.  She really doesn't like it when she gets interrupted.  "Anyway, just try to imagine this: you're in New York.  Busy day...just like any other day.  Then, you meet her."

"Her as in the foreigner lady?"  Chandler interrupted once more.

"Yes!"  Monica snapped.  "Just focus, will you?  And let me finish."

"Okay..."  Chandler grumbled disinterestedly.  Sometimes, Monica could get just a little bit too bossy.  He was used to it, though.  They've been friends for years, so he was not at all surprised by the many little quirks of this friend of his.  Sometimes, he could actually find her little obsessions cute.

"All right," Monica went on.  "So you meet her.  You fall in love.  Then, one day, you find out she has to go away."

"And this is supposed to be a good thing?"  Chandler winced, not buying Monica's scenario at all.  "What's romantic about that?  You love her, but then she has to leave you?  Nah-uh!  Not for me."

"Could you just shut up for a second and let me finish?"  Monica grated, pinching Chandler's arm.

"But what's there to finish?"  Chandler challenged.  "Once she leaves, it's over.  The story's finished.  Zipped.  Zero.  Nada."

"Ugh!"  Monica sighed exasperatedly.  "Don't you even have a single romantic bone in you?  Or should I say, IMAGINATION?"  She pointed out, determined to make him get her point.  "C'mon!  With the distance, you have tons of other scenarios that could happen to you.like--"

"Breaking up," Chandler dryly suggested.

Once again, Monica went with her firm, "No!"  She stopped walking and then stood in front of Chandler.  "It's a pretty good test of love, don't you think?  I mean, if what you have is true love..."

"What?"  Chandler interrupted once more.  "It will last forever?"  Monica's brows shot up at this, so he explained.  "Joey gave me a pendant and it has that line engraved at the back of it."

"Woh!"  Monica held her hands in front of her, her expression quizzical, almost as if shocked.  "You and Joey?  To-together?"

"Oh no, no, no!"  Chandler's eyes widened, realizing the impression he left on Monica.  "Not me and Joey.  It's..."  He shook his head, not really wanting to go at great lengths to explain himself.  "Not me and Joey...together," he stated clearly for the record.  "It's a long complicated pendant story.  But to make the long story short: he owes me money and he gave the pendant to me as a guarantee type thing."  He dug inside his pocket, pulled out the jeweled rock and showed it to Monica.

"How did Joey end up with a girl's pendant?" Monica pressed, turning the expensive piece of jewelry in her hands.

"Beats me."  Chandler blew air out of his mouth.  "I guess as a teen, he went to Italy on his parents' insistence.  He spent a summer with his relatives and somehow he ended up with a summer job in this villa where the rich and famous usually stay.  And he found the pendant there."

"Well, this could beat my overseas love story," Monica said suddenly, her attention solely focused on the pendant.

Chandler cocked his brow, silently wondering what Monica's crazy head was up to this time.  "Excuse me.  What?"

"It's perfect!"  Monica exclaimed, leaving Chandler wondering if she was talking about the pendant or her crazy idea.

"True love lasts forever?"  Monica looked at the much too confused Chandler.  "C'mon.  This Rachel girl is looking for this other half!"

"What?"

Monica touched the edge of the pendant and lifted it up for Chandler to look at closely.  "Look, this pendant splits in two, and this is where it locks.  Don't you see, this Rachel girl could be the love of your life!"

"Again, what?"  Chandler couldn't be any more confused.

"She's looking for this!"  Monica exclaimed excitedly, loudly, earning her a few looks from the passersby.  "And you, Chandler, are about to have the love story of a lifetime!  It could have been Joey...but oh well, he gave this up.  So now, it's your turn!"

Monica rambled on, but Chandler just stood there, hardly paying attention.  He wasn't really the kind of guy who easily gets worked up on little things like this--unlike Monica...or Ross.  _"Maybe I should just give the pendant to Ross,"_  he thought to himself, continuing to lend Monica his eyes but not his ears.  He smiled inwardly, finding it almost too hilarious that he was so tuned out, yet Monica couldn't even notice it because of how worked up she was over this little piece of jewelry.  Monica kept opening her mouth, and yet for him, it was just like watching her in a silent movie.

Passionate?  Yeah, Monica was definitely passionate.  He was not going to argue with that.  She is also stubborn.  _And kind of cute_, Chandler quickly added as he tried to keep busy while Monica was talking.  _She also has a very nice smile, especially when her dimple shows.  She has nice lips.and eyes.  Overall, she's a beautiful person.  The type that he might want to go out with...or not.  But really, she strikes him as the kind of person he might want to marry someday..._

"Hold it, right there!"  Chandler just blurted out.  He was trying to put a stop to his thoughts, but apparently, he blurted it out loud, causing Monica to eye him critically.

"Hold what?"  Monica lifted an eyebrow.

"Nothing."  Chandler replied tightly, his face turning the reddest of red he could ever turn.  He could hear the blood pounding in his ears.  He could feel his cheeks flaming as if on fire.  He didn't know what suddenly got into him that made him look at her _that way_.  He had never done that before.  After all, Monica is just Ross's little sister.  Monica is just his ex-college roommate's little sister.  She's just Monica.  Fat Monica!  "Fat," he blurted out of nervousness.  _Bad pendant!  Damn it for the boring talk Monica made about it that made him think about other things!_  He had to admit, he had always seen Monica as kind of special, but that was only because she was his friend.  Nothing less.  Nothing more.

"Excuse me?"  Monica's mouth dropped, seemingly offended.

"F-f-fa-fa..."  Chandler stammered, struggling for words, for a way out of this.  Unfortunately for him, he was often not very good with this kind of thing.  "Ross!"  He said the first thing that came to mind.

Monica touched Chandler's elbow.  "Chandler, are you okay?"

Sheepishly, Chandler nodded.  "Uh-huh..."  He bit his bottom lip.  "Just really wondering how Ross is holding up with his blind date..."

=====

Ross glanced at his wristwatch and released a long exhausting sigh.  He was tired, all right.  Tired of waiting for his blind date to show up.  Phoebe said his date would show up; but what if she decided not to?  Or, worst case scenario, she saw him by the door and left.  He took a quick glance at his reflection in the spoon on the table, running his hands gently over his partially gelled hair.  Monica told him that he used a lot of it and that some women might not like that fact; so for this date, he cut back.  What else could possibly look wrong with him?

He checked his teeth for the umpteenth time, making sure that nothing was stuck in between.  He checked his outfit: a simple black sweater and nice pair of light gray slacks.  He stuck with the basic colors, so what could possibly go wrong with that?

Sighing, he leaned back on the chair and glanced at the many couples on a date in the restaurant.  Most of them were already on their main course, despite the fact that they came later than him.  "_And they even had appetizers!" _he cringed inside.

This was awful!  Simply awful!

He touched the single long-stemmed rose that he brought for his date--well, the rose that he had to bring so she would know that he's her date.  Any minute now, he was going to rip the petals off of it and play a little game of "She will show up; she will show up, not."

This was embarrassing!  Humiliating!  No one was really paying attention to him except for the waiters who already got the idea that he was waiting for someone; but still, people could be placing bets on his pitiful situation already!

"Still no show, huh?"  A waiter appeared with his pad.

Ross forced a wry smile on his face, and then shook his head.  The waiter just cut his tip in half.  He was usually a very generous tipper, but not for this one.

"Would you like to order now, sir?" the cocky waiter continued.  "If you do, maybe she'll get here by the time you have your dessert."

"You think that's funny, huh?"  Ross tried to keep a straight face.  "Do you want me to ask for your manager?"

Before the now tongue-tied waiter could reply, a dark-haired woman approached the table.  "So sorry to do this, but..."  Strangely enough, she took the seat across from Ross, but then turned her back on him as she seemingly tried to peer at another couple two tables away.

"Okay..." Ross muttered under his breath, silently wondering if this was a prank or Phoebe just really did set him up with a cuckoo head.  "Hi," he greeted.  Without even bothering to look at him, she waved back.  "Okay..." he mumbled again, gesturing the waiter to leave him to save himself from an audience while he embarrassed himself again.

"Are you Amanda?"  Ross asked with all uncertainty.  Phoebe said that Amanda has long blonde hair, but this woman got short, bobby, chocolate-brown hair with matching bangs that covered her...hazel eyes?  Ross couldn't be sure.  It was hard to see her face clearly when she wouldn't even sit still for a second to look at him.  "Are you Amanda?" he repeated, making sure that she heard him this time.

The woman looked at him for a moment and shrugged.  "Yeah.  I guess..."

"You guess?"  Ross nearly choked on his own words, hearing this.  "Are you...are you not too sure about this?"

"Yes, all right?"  the woman snapped.  "I'm Amanda.  Now, just shush!"

Ross's jaw dropped in disbelief.  He was now certain that the woman was 100% insane.  What woman in her right mind would go on a blind date and watch on...

He stretched his neck upwards, trying to get a better glimpse of what this crazy woman was watching.  There was an elderly couple right next to their table, so Ross was almost certain that the woman was looking at the one table behind it, where an attractive blonde man and his redhead date were dining.

"Oh god!"  The woman gasped.  "He's feeding strawberries!  He's going to have sex with her tonight.  I know he will..."

Now, Ross was completely stumped.  He was literally out of words to say.  Somehow, it was starting to dawn on him that his date really did stand him up, that this woman was just some woman spying on her husband.  "Excuse me?"  He leaned forward to touch the woman's shoulder, calling her attention.  She turned, so he smiled.  "Are you here to spy on your husband or boyfriend or something of sort?"

Guiltily, the woman nodded.  "I'm so sorry...It's just that this place was booked and there are no empty..."

"It's all right."  Ross smiled.  "I've been stood up anyway.  So it's not like someone's going to take that seat any time soon," he admitted, laughing at his own bad luck.

"Sorry..." she smiled faintly, briefly glancing over her shoulder to look at the table she was 'spying on.'

"My name's Ross, by the way," Ross introduced, hesitant to give his full name for fear that this woman was really insane and cause him trouble afterwards.  She really didn't seem too crazy on the second glance.  She just looked a really lost.

"I'm Ra--" she paused, as if carefully contemplating something.  "I'm Rae."

"Nice to meet you, Rae...I guess," Ross smiled sheepishly, extending his hand to the woman, which she took to his surprise.  He sat back for a moment, debating whether he should just leave and let this woman be, or stay and talk to her.  He knew how awful it feels to be cheated on.  He's been on the receiving end of it, so he knew.  Besides, the woman looked like she could really use someone to talk to...

"So Rae," he began, waiting for the dark-haired woman to turn her head before continuing.  "If you don't mind me asking...what's your story with..." he trailed, finishing his question by tilting his head in the direction of the blonde man two tables away.

Rae didn't answer right away.  Instead, she looked at him as if studying his entire persona, perhaps trying to see if she could trust him.  Finally, after what seemed like forever she opened her mouth.  "I prefer not to talk about it...Thanks for the interest, though."

Distrustful.  The woman was very distrustful of people, Ross thought.  He couldn't blame her.  Her man cheated on her.  Of course, she would have a hard time trusting people.  Let alone a stranger like him.

"Can I ask you something?"  Rae asked, leaning forward on the table slightly.  "What are they doing?"  She tilted her head in the direction of the couple two tables behind.

Ross pushed his chair back and took another peek.  He almost couldn't believe that he was doing this.  But then, on the other hand, it wasn't like he has anything better to do.  "He is..."  He winced, trying to see past a balding man's head.  "He is...No, actually, they are..."

"What?"  Rae demanded anxiously.  "What are they doing?"

Ross sighed and brought his chair upright.  "Kissing.  I'm sorry.  They're kissing."

"With tongues and all?"

Ross nodded sympathetically.  "From what I saw, yes."

"I knew I shouldn't have come!" Rae started to cry, burying her face in her hands.

He could have easily laughed at this, laughed at the woman's desperation, but her tears really got him.  Hesitantly, he dragged his chair closer to her and pulled her into a comforting embrace.  "You're going to be all right..." he told her reassuringly, stroking her back gently.  "Guys like that--not worth crying over."

Rae pulled back a second later, hardly making any eye contact with him.  Mascara dripped from her eyes, making ghastly streaks down to the middle of her cheeks.  "I'm sorry..." she apologized.  "I-I should just go..."

"Are you going to be okay?"  Ross asked sympathetically.

Rae nodded, looking back at her ex's table once more.

"Do you need to be seen to a cab?"  Ross offered hesitantly.  He really didn't want to do this, but he felt like he was involved now.  If anything bad happens to this woman, he knew he'd feel partly to blame.  Thankfully, the woman shook her head--much to his relief.  Still, he couldn't simply ignore the first stirring of guilt, so he offered again.  "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Rae replied without looking at him.  "I have my driver waiting outside for me."

"Oh..."  Ross muttered.  "You just take care then."

Rae stood up, her eyes still glued to her ex's table.  "Thanks," she mumbled.  Or something like that.  Ross wasn't too sure because she never really looked back at him or spoke loud enough.  He replied with a "You're welcome" anyhow.

Ross leaned back on his chair and toyed with his single red rose on the table, waiting for the woman to leave.  Rae was set to go; she was just not making any move towards the door yet, seemingly frozen in place as she watched her ex and his new girlfriend.  Ross sighed and leaned forward against the table.  "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes," Rae choked her reply.  This time, though, she turned her head briefly to look at him.  Ross smiled back at her in the brief second, and without a second thought, he pulled the rose from the table and handed it to her.  "Just a little something to cheer you up."  

Hesitantly, Rae took it, tears still in her eyes.  "Thanks," she said softly.

With a polite smile, Ross gave her a brief nod.  "Happy Valentines Day, Rae."

=====

The chill of the frosty wind slapped her face and stung her eyes even more when she finally stepped out of the restaurant.  With a purse and a long-stemmed rose in hand, Rachel hailed her driver across the street and got in the backseat of her father's Lincoln town car--her official transportation that her father assigned for her.  Once inside, she threw her head back and pressed it hard against the beige leather seat.  She expunged a sigh--long, deep, frustrated, sad, and all the other emotions she could feel right that second.  "Damn you, Louis!"  she cursed under her breath.  They've only been separated for six months, and yet there he was dating already!

She so shouldn't have come.  But no!  Stubborn that she was, she even had to contact an old friend to ask about Louis' whereabouts having heard that he's in town.  Stubborn that she was, she even had to wear this stupid, ugly brown wig, and these painful brown-tinted contacts to follow her ex-husband like some lunatic spy.  Stubborn that she was, she even had to make such a big fool of herself.  Thankfully, she ended up sitting on a table with a pathetic loser like her.

He was a nice and sweet loser, though--she must admit.  It was just too bad that her emotions got the better of her that she was not able to thank him properly.   She couldn't even remember how he looked like because her tears kept blurring her view.  For crying out loud, she couldn't even remember his name!  Ross?  Russ?  Russell?  Rusty?  Ray?  It was one of those, she just couldn't remember which.

Sighing, she took off her dark wig and freed her much lighter light brown hair.  She tossed it on the seat and froze for a second when a red rose caught her eyes.  With a small smile on her lips, she picked up the flower and brought it up to her face, letting its velvety petals tickle her nose.  She craned her neck and looked back in the direction of the restaurant until it vanished when her car rounded the corner.  "Thank you, stranger..." she whispered.  If only Louis were like him, things would be all right by now.

"Would you like to go home now, Miss?"  the driver's voice intruded in her thoughts.

Rachel glanced out the window and sighed.  "No.  Can you drive me to the park?  I want to take a walk for a while."

=====

"Okay.  Stay here.  I'll just go pick up a few things from that new grocery down the street."  Monica told Chandler as they neared the park.

"What?  You don't want me to go with you?"  Chandler grinned wryly.

Monica thought for a moment and then released a sigh.  "No.  I think it's better that I go there alone."

"Why?"

"Because," Monica started with her pouty-lipped reply.  "This grocery is owned by this really cute Irish guy and--"

"All right, I got it."  Chandler threw his hands up in the air in defeat.  "You smell romance in the air so you go get your foreigner, girl!"  He finished sarcastically.  Before he could even finish, Monica was gone.

"Oy!"  Chandler sighed, strolling into the park.  This whole thing with Monica?  It was nothing, he convinced himself.  He was bored.  It was Valentines Day.  He just had a bad date.  Everything summed up well.  The factors of loneliness were all present, and what better way to put a balm on it than to turn to something or someone he could easily get comfortable with.  He doesn't like Monica _that way_!  That's just silly!  It was just a momentary lapse and now it was finally over.

Feeling much more relieved, Chandler pulled the pendant from his pocket and began tossing it up in the air as he walked.  He wasn't sure how he ended up carrying it in his pants pocket that night anyway.  As far as he could remember, he just picked up his keys from his top dresser, and when he dug his hands inside his pocket when he was in the restaurant, he felt it.  The pendant probably got stuck with his keys, he thought.

"True love lasts forever..."  He scoffed at the thought.  Somehow, he wasn't too sure that true love actually exists.  Couples are breaking up everywhere, the divorce rate is rising, and even his own parents are separated.  So really, there hasn't been much to show him that true love actually exists.  So if this Rachel girl is still alive, he thought, she should just wake up to reality and face that fact that there is no such thing as true love.

A woman's soft sniffles caught his attention, so he stopped tossing the pendant in the air and followed its direction.  The sound led him to a park bench, where a pretty lady was sitting down, crying as she studied the tips of her boots.  Clad in an ensemble that screamed out pricey designer items, she looked like a damsel, a modern-day princess, sitting in the middle of Central Park in distress.  Her hair floated when a chilly wind breezed by, but it was the lighting from the lamppost that did much of the accentuation, running an almost golden line down her hair, that Chandler later realized was really more of the color of light brown than it is gold.  She was beautiful, nonetheless.  Chandler didn't even have to look closely at her face to see that she's one beautiful lady.

Curiously, Chandler trudged closer to her, silently wondering what a lovely lady like her was doing crying alone in a park on a Valentines night.  Could it have been fate?  He shook his head almost immediately.  No, it couldn't have been.  He doesn't believe in those kind of things...maybe not, until now...

"Hi," he greeted softly.  "Can I, can I take this spot or are you waiting for someone?"

The lady looked up for a moment and shook her head.  "No.  I'm not waiting for anyone.  Go ahead.  Feel free to sit down."

"Thanks."  Chandler smiled nervously as he took the left side of the bench.  He sighed and shifted the pendant to his left hand, wondering when would be a good time to say something else again.  He's really not that good with this kind of thing, so he never knew when to begin or what to begin with at that.  "Are you all right?"  he asked instead.  When the crying lady didn't reply, he took it as his cue to leave her alone.  But then, the moment that he was least expecting her to say anything, she did; and he ended up nearly jumping out of his skin in surprise, tossing the shiny piece of jewelry in his left hand until it landed on the thick shrubberies behind the bench.

"I'm sorry, I'm such a mess..."  the lady tearfully apologized.  

Half-focusing, Chandler kneeled on the bench and looked over in search of the pendant Joey gave him.  "Oh shoot!"  He began cussing under his breath, trying to find the pendant behind the thick shrubberies.  One look was all it took and he knew that he wouldn't be able to find it that night.  Aside from the snow creating all sorts of fake shimmer on the ground, the shrubs seemed to run deep, so he just heaved out a helpless sigh.

"Are-are you all right?"  The lady asked in confusion, turning her head in the direction of the shrubberies he was looking at.  "Did you lose something behind these plants?"

"Yeah..." Chandler mumbled dryly.  "It's winter!  These plants shouldn't be here!"

Somehow, the lady found his reaction rather funny, so she smiled a little bit.  "Well, some of them survive the winters..."

"I know!  I don't get it."  Chandler complained, taking his seat once more.  "They're not supposed to be there because I can't lose that thing."

"What thing?"  the lady asked.

Suddenly remembering Monica's reaction earlier when he told her that Joey gave him a pendant with an engraving of "True love lasts forever...," he thought it would be safer to be vague about it lest he left another wrong impression about him.  "It's...it's this thing that my roommate gave me, who by the way, is not gay.  He's straight--straight all the way."

"Okay..." the lady mumbled, eyeing him rather critically when he said what he did.  "Must be something special..." she commented, finally drying the tears in her eyes.

"Yeah..."  Chandler shrugged, a wry expression on his face.  "But it's not like I can wear it, you know..."  Realizing that he probably said far too much than actually necessary, he grinned sheepishly.  "Sorry about that."  He leaned back on the bench, stuffing his hands inside his coat pocket when another gust of chilly air blew, and finally turning to look at the lady again.  "I don't know why you're crying, and I'm not going to ask.  But, would you like to get a cup of coffee.  It's kind of cold out here and there's this nice coffee place just across the street...so if you want to..."

The lady pondered the offer for a second.  Just when Chandler thought she was not going to reply again, she did--just not the kind of answer he was expecting..not from her or the disposition she was in only a minute ago.

"I'd love to," she replied, "but I'm married with a three-year-old son.  And if my 300-lb husband, who works as a bouncer in a nightclub a couple of blocks away from the coffee place you mentioned, finds out that I had coffee with another man _even_ if it doesn't mean anything, he's going to kill you.  He's going to kill you and me.  So, do you think that's something you can deal with?"

Suddenly, the air seemed to have lost its chill and Chandler suddenly needed to loosen his collar to let the cold air in.  "Yes?"  His voice came out as an almost high-pitched squeak comparable to that of a mouse.  And unless his answer convinced the pretty lady, he couldn't be convinced himself.

_To be continued..._


End file.
